Illya
by ForestOfGreed
Summary: Illya has never known her father. Who is this strange man who seems to know a little too much about her mother...?ON HIATUS


Chapter 1

Illya sighed. She was in a beautiful field, unknown to most of the villagers. _How can such a peaceful place exist in a time that is anything but?_

The land of Alagaesia was doomed, right from the point that the Varden's only hope died. Eragon and Saphira, the last free dragon and Rider fell in what was _supposed_ to be the last battle, and technically, it was. After they died, the Varden had no chance of ever winning the war unless the green egg hatched, and even then, no one would be there to train the new Rider and their dragon. Oh, the Varden still existed, but they weren't a threat to the king anymore.

Illya was born a few months after that battle. It's been 13 years since. Her pointed elfin ears picked up a rustle. Her hand went immediately to her dagger, ready to attack. He relaxed her pose when she saw it was her mother, graceful and quiet in her movements.

"Illya, could you go to the inn to pick up some mead for me?" Her mother was often reluctant to head to the inn, lest she be bombarded by men courting her. People often said she was very similar to her mother, but they also said there was an air of protectiveness and stubbornness around her. They always concluded that it was her father's traits, but she refused to believe that she was similar to her father in any way. She didn't and had no desire to know him.

"Are you all right?" Her mother had been sick the past few days. She laughed; it always sounded like music when her mother laughed.

"Always worried about me. You remind me so much of your father." Illya scowled. Her mother noticed and frowned.

"Don't scowl as though being compared to your father is a bad thing, child."

"But he left you when you were pregnant! I and anyone who knows him would _not_ want to be similar to him in any way!" She stalked off to inn to fetch the mead.

Her mother watched her retreating back, fighting to hold the tears in. "If only you knew…"

Illya walked into the inn only to be met by Garrik, one of her mother's better suitors. He was always kind and didn't constantly bother her mother like other's.

"What can I get for you, Illya?"

"I need to pick up the mead my mother sent for."

"Wait for a bit and I'll get it. In the meantime, why don't we just talk a bit?" Illya nodded. Conversations with Garrik were always nice.

It was then she noticed a cloaked figure standing in the corner of the room. He had to be part of the Varden or a spy for Galbatorix.

"Who that?" she asked, inclining her head toward the stranger.

"Don't know. He rented a room without giving a name." She panicked.

"Do you know how long he'll be staying?"

"No, but if your mother comes in her anytime soon, she'll be annoyed to the point when she yells. It'll be the fifth time this week if she does." Illya sent a message mentally to her mother to warn her that there might be trouble when she comes in. A few minutes later, her mother entered and she was immediately asked for her hand by many of the new residents. But the cloaked stranger stayed in his corner, not seeming to notice. That is, until he actually looked toward her mother's way. He staggered back in shock. Illya was used to men shocked by her mother's looks, but this was a bit much.

Illya's mother seemed to then notice the stranger, though she didn't look his way. Without warning, she sent a green bolt of energy at the man. The bolt didn't seem to affect him. Garrek gasped; he didn't know her mother was an elf. Therefore, he didn't know she could use magic.

Her mother pulled out a sword Illya didn't even know she _had_ and attacked the stranger. The man blocked with his own sword, but did not seem to try to attack her mother, only defend himself.

"Who are you?" interrogated her mother. He muttered something back even Illya, with her sharpened senses, couldn't hear.

"No, you can't be. He died in the final battle. Proof is that my daughter has no father." Was this man impersonating her father? Once again, he said something too quiet for Illya to hear.

"It's impossible! We all heard Saphira's cry of anguish! She even flew off, away from the battle! Galbatorix pronounced you dead!" Illya gasped. Saphira? It can't be…

Now the man said something loud enough for her to hear over the sound of swords clashing. "What can I do to prove myself? I've already tried the ancient language! I can't very well show you Saphira like before! We can't let the Empire capture us, Arya!" Now she was almost sure who the man was. She just hoped it wasn't true. Then a deafening mental cry confirmed her fears.

_Eragon!_


End file.
